


Backseat Education

by GasolineGhuleh



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Cameo, Education, F/M, Fingering, First Time, Healthy sex, Teasing, backseat education, car fucking, french cuisine described poorly, handjobs, learning, teaching what you like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26524540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasolineGhuleh/pseuds/GasolineGhuleh
Summary: Sequel to a short fic on my tumblr (@gasolineghuleh) called "Let Papa". In the first, Papa comforts a sad Sister in the hallway. Finally, a week later, he takes her out to dinner and teaches her what he likes.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus III/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Backseat Education

**Author's Note:**

> From the site with ko in it. Interested? Talk @ me on my tumblr.

The mirror reflects your visage back at you, unchanged from when you flitted by it five minutes previously. Your nerves are getting the better of you, and you know it. A few calming breaths later and you’re ready to proceed down the stairs from the Sibling dorms to the main entry way of the Abbey-- a long and curving stone walkway that sees you slip a few times. After correcting your steps a few times, you're able to make your way to the bottom without further incident.

As promised, Papa is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. He bows slightly when he sees you, and stretches out his arm. His casual suit seems freshly pressed and cleaned, and his white gloves are immaculate. As usual, his papal paint is fresh and untainted yet by the day, even at 6pm. You take his hand in yours and smile at him softly as he guides the two of you towards the large oaken doors that lead out of the Abbey proper and into the courtyard. 

“I’m so glad you could join me, Sister. I thought after our liaison in the hallway, you would have some hesitation in seeing me again.” He smiles at you, but you can tell in his eyes that it was a genuine concern of his. You squeeze his hand in reassurance, casting your gaze towards the courtyard instead to hide your rising flush.

“Of course, Papa. Where exactly are we headed, again? I don’t think you’ve told me.” Papa only winks at you, gesturing his arm widely towards the limousine that’s stalling in the large roundabout in the center of the courtyard. You’ve seen it before on the rare occasion that he’s taken other Siblings out of the Abbey, or when he has to attend to matters off the grounds. Still, it’s grander than you remember. He opens the door for you, ushering you in before following.

The inside of the limousine is a dark plum, with black leather bench seats. In the well of the door is a large bottle of chilled red wine with matching glasses lining the ceiling. Papa takes one deftly, twirling it in his fingers before setting it on a small table on the opposite wall. He pops the wine bottle open with ease, pouring a glass for you and gesturing for you to take it. When you do so, he takes another glass and pours himself one. 

“Tonight is for you and I, si? You seem to be having a better week than the last, and I think it is celebration worthy.” He raises his glass to you and you do the same, clinking them together before taking a quick sip. The wine is chilled to perfection, and the flavour of berries and grapes bursts across your tongue. “Good, si? I thought it would be to your tastes.” 

“Very good, thank you Papa.” You set your glass down in the cup holders as the limousine starts to move, rolling over the pressed gravel of the courtyard and through the large gates. You can see the gates slam shut behind you out of the rear window, and the feeling is only a little unsettling-- it’s been years since you actually stepped foot off of the grounds of the Abbey. “Am I allowed to ask where we’re going, now?” You smile at Papa again as he wags his finger at you, taking another sip of his wine. 

“Fine, fine. You are curious. I have reserved us seats at La Pomme de Terre. The menu is already prepared for us-- a special menu from the chef herself.” Papa sits back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other and settling in. “Everything will be better than you think, I assure you.” 

“That sounds wonderful, Papa but… what have I done to deserve this treatment? It’s not every day that you take Siblings out of the Abbey with you.” Fighting your rising nerves once more, you take up your wine glass for another sip; it helps somewhat and you relax more in your seat. 

“Sister, remember when I met you in the hall the other night? You were crying. Upset, si? This week you have been happier-- something has changed for the better, and we must celebrate those little victories. A long battle, but now, a reprieve.” He raises his glass to you again quickly, toasting you and draining the glass. You don’t miss the way that his tongue sweeps lasciviously across his lower lip. “Besides, one must wine and dine before indulging in the sins of the flesh.”

“With me? You?” You’re stammering and you know it, snapping your mouth shut quickly as a flush rises up your face. You ease the awkwardness by finishing off your wine and setting the glass down. After clearing your throat, you try again. “You mean you want to do that… with me?” 

“Sister.” Papa leans forward in his seat, two-toned gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that takes the wind from you. “Did you think that the hallway was a one off? Did you think I would not want to take you properly? Let your Papa spoil you, eh?” He leans back again, his foot bouncing as he appraises you with his eyes. 

“As you wish, Papa. I would enjoy that.” You relax slightly, reassured that he does, infact, want you as you want him. The two of you sit in comfortable silence as the countryside rolls past the tinted windows, the trees of the forest surrounding the Abbey gradually giving way to sidewalks and cobblestone streets. 

“Sister?” You look at Papa and cock your eyebrow at him. “If I may be so bold… have you had experience with another?” You sit up a bit straighter in your seat, flushing bright red as your mind flicks back to the encounter in the hallway with him. 

“I have, yes. They never quite taught me what they liked, so I… I’m not sure what the best thing to do is.” You take a breathe to continue speaking as Papa cuts you off sharply. 

“There is no best, Sister. Only what is best for your partner, and they must tell you these things, si? You are only as skilled as your information.” Papa taps his lower lip with a single gloved finger, obviously thinking. “Would it make you relax if I tell you what I like, when the time comes?” Before he’s done speaking you’re already nodding in agreement. 

“I’d like that very much, Papa. Takes away the pressure a bit.” You laugh lightly just as the limousine pulls to a stop outside of the brightly lit patio of a French restaurant. From your seat in the car you can see the comfortable waiting area, with an already decently sized line. You stifle a sigh as your stomach grumbles-- obviously you’d have to wait a little while longer. There's a moment of stillness as the driver kills the car engine and steps out himself, quickly coming to your door and opening it. Papa exits the car with a fluid and agile motion, extending a hand to you and helping you out of the car as he does so. 

“This way, Sister,” Papa says as he escorts you inside the restaurant. The interior of the restaurant is lit dimly, using strands of white fairy lights instead of proper light bulbs. Overall, the ambiance of the restaurant is comfortable and cozy with an intimate feeling when seated. A waitress greets the two of you warmly by name, escorting you farther into the eatery and stopping at a well secluded table. 

“Thank you,” you mumble as you incline your head to her. Papa takes her hand lightly and presses a kiss to the top, expressing his thanks to her by name. You slide yourself into the booth quickly settling into the comfortable cushion and waiting for Papa to sit before you address him with a teasing, “Know her well?”

“Si, si. I have favourite waiters at all restaurants, sorella. Show them the thanks and they show you a better dining experience.” You only just barely catch his quick wink. The waitress returns with a bottle of wine and some glasses, extending the bottle to Papa for his approval. He takes it from her with a nod, pouring the glasses and dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as she walks away. “That one has always liked Papa, hm?” You manage to salvage your laugh into a cough, a wide smile crossing your face when he joins you. 

“So you take all of the Siblings here, then?” You’re being coy and you know it, but it’s been a while since you’ve truly felt the thrill of a man pursuing you. Papa gives you a half smile, one side of his mouth turning upward before he speaks.

“No, Sister. Only the special ones that I deem worthy of the wooing.” He tilts his glass to you, toasting you for the second time tonight. “Or the particularly beautiful ones.” Another tilt, another toast. “Or the ones I intend to fuck.” He pops the ‘k’ of ‘fuck’ and you giggle a little, despite your attempt to remain stoic. 

“Which category would you say I fall into then, Papa?” You take your own wine glass, giving him a quick toast as well before taking a sip. He watches you intently as you sweep your tongue along your lower lip, gathering the droplet of wine that managed to slip from the glass.

“All three, bella,” he says in a hushed tone. Already, his pupils are widened as he continues to watch your lips. Well aware of the effect that you and the wine are having on him, you take another exaggerated sip. Once you set the glass back down, you run a hand from your neck down your chest.

“Hot in here, isn’t it, Papa?” You fan yourself with one hand and arch your back slightly into the breeze you’ve created-- you know exactly what you’re doing, and it’s a game you have a feeling he’ll love to play along with. 

“Very.” Papa’s eyes don’t leave yours as he removes his suit coat, setting it gently to the side. With one finger, he pulls the collar of his dress shirt exaggeratedly away from his neck before turning his attention to his wrists. He unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and slides it up to his elbows, finally resting his chin in his palm as he looks at you. 

Just as you get your wits about you and open your mouth for a witty rejoinder, the waitress appears with a large, steaming platter of food. She places two empty plates in a stack on the side of your table, and sets the platter in the center after Papa clears the glasses for her. From her pocket she produces two rolls of silverware as well as some extra napkins. 

In the center of the large platter are two neatly sliced duck breasts, as well as some seared vegetables surrounding them in a colourful pattern. You barely have time to admire the presentation before Papa dishes it up, giving you a sizable portion before taking some for himself. You unroll your own utensils and spear a decent sized piece of duck, taking it delicately off of your fork and chewing. The first flavour that hits you, aside from the meat itself, is the garlic, followed closely by juniper berry. Once he sees the satisfaction on your face, Papa takes a bite himself. 

“Good, si? I told you not to worry, the chef knows what you like better than you do,” Papa says with a laugh. You nod in agreement and try the vegetables, almost audibly moaning at the flavour and perfectly cooked texture. 

At some point during the meal, perhaps during the various glasses of wine that you've down, you find your foot sliding forward to rub against Papa's leg. He jumps and then relaxes once he realizes what you're doing, tossing a slight grin at you across the table. With an arched eyebrow, he leans across the table towards you and whispers conspiratorially,

“You grow bold in touching your Papa now, sorella? This is good to see. Perhaps you feel bolder soon, si?” Papa finishes speaking just as soon as the waitress approaches your table to clear your empty dishes, and you can feel the flush rising up your chest to grace your cheeks. If the waitress notices at all, she makes no comment towards it instead opting to clear your plates quickly with a slight incline of her head towards Papa. 

“Perhaps I will, Papa.” You're just enough time to get your comment in before the waitress appears once more holding a menu with various desserts on it. She explains to Papa that the desserts are not chosen by the chef and the two of you can pick and choose whatever you want, as it's included in the bill for the night already. Papa flutters the menu with an exaggerated motion and you laugh slightly as he begins to read the deserts off to you in a horribly fake French accent. 

“Eclair, chocolate. Mousse, chocolate. Macaron… no flavour listed, sorella, apologies.” Papa looks at you sympathetically and you stifle another laugh into your napkin. “Creme brulee… now there’s an option, si? Mille-feuille or opera cake… What do you think, bella? Have a particular taste that you’re wanting?” Papa arches his brow at you and you take the chance to flirt further.

“I've always been a fan of cream, myself. Perhaps we can get the mousse and the eclair, and have them both.” Papa nods to you and signals the waitress over, to whom he gives your order. Almost immediately, she returns with a plate and a small custard bowl, setting both down in the center of the table and leaving quietly. 

Papa takes a small spoon and dips it into the chocolate mousse, as you go for the eclair and bring it to your lips. You take a dainty bite out of the eclair and some of the cream drips out onto your index finger. Setting the eclair back down on the plate, you bring your finger to your lips and lick the cream off, making sure it's a show for Papa. Sure enough, when you look up, Papa's face has a slight pink flush underneath his papal paint. He watches as you draw your finger into your mouth with your tongue, sucking on it before pulling it slowly from your lips.

You watch as Papa eats his own dessert slowly, clearly attempting to fluster you as well as he licks and sucks on the spoon. When he brings more of the mousse to his mouth he moans exaggeratedly, sending a shiver down your spine. As you watch, Papa brings a finger to the plate and swipes some of the cream from your eclair onto it, bringing it to his lips. Your own lips fall open in a slight gasp as Papa sucks on his finger with a nearly pornographic moan. His tongue moves around the digit lithely as yours had, and the motion is enough to make you bright red. Finally, Papa opens his eyes to make contact with you, tossing you a quick wink before continuing to eat his desserts normally.

“Perhaps we should be going, bella?” Papa asks as he nods in the direction of your mostly finished eclair. With a slightly dazed feeling, you nod to him. Papa stands swiftly and puts his discarded suit jacket over his arm, holding a hand out to you for balance as you stand. He guides you to the front of the restaurant where he motions to your waitress. He converses with her in fluid French for a moment while you stand, unsure of the proceedings. 

“Papa, the bill?” you prompt him quietly from your place at his side. In response, he merely steers you towards the door and the already waiting limousine. 

“Paid for in advance, Sister. We are free to do as we wish, si?” As he had before, Papa holds the door to the restaurant open for you, repeating the motion with the door to the limousine. You slide in, this time sitting on the same bench that Papa occupied on the drive there. When he ducks in after you, he sits down next to you with a coy smile on his lips. “You sit next to your Papa now, eh?” 

“I figured it’s the least I could do, after a meal like that.” You’re teasing him and you know it, but it’s partially the truth. With a slight lurch, the limousine pulls away from the curb and Papa takes the motion as an opportunity to cross one leg over the other, leaning into you and placing his hand on your knee. His other arm comes up to rest around your shoulders, drawing you closer into his side. 

“You let me know if this is not okay, si?” Papa seems genuine in his desire for you to be comfortable, and the feeling makes you relax into him. The arm around your shoulder squeezes you slightly as his other hand glides up your leg towards your inner thigh. “This could be good, si?”

“Mm,” you hum, allowing his hand to move until he stops it himself. His hand grips your inner thigh lightly, his thumb stroking the soft skin there as he does so. Papa leans down, breath hot against your ear as he starts to whisper to you. 

“Is this something you want, Sister? Do you remember how good it felt when your Papa pleasured you in the hallway? Do you remember how it felt when you came on my fingers? I smelled you for the rest of the day, sorella.” By the time he’s done speaking, your chest is heaving with your deep breaths, eyes already half-lidded in arousal. “Tell me what you want, bella,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, his lips just barely brushing against you.

“I just want you, Papa.” As soon as the words escape your lips, Papa moves his hand away from your shoulders and cups the side of your face. He turns you gently to face him, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. When you don’t protest, he kisses you more insistently, sealing your lips together. 

As the kiss deepens, you turn your body to better face him, surreptitiously moving a leg over his. He grunts slightly against your lips when he feels the weight of your leg, sliding his hand further to the apex of your thighs, just barely pressing against your heat. When you cant your hips into his hand, you feel his lips turn up into a smile against yours. Papa bites your lower lip softly and you moan into his mouth, breath coming faster as you move your hips against his grasp. 

With a quick motion, his hand slips beneath the hem of your panties as one finger slides between your lips, smearing your slickness. The pad of his fingertip quickly finds your clit and rubs in a small circle, leaving you gasping against his lips, all thought of kissing him in return dashed from your mind in your wave of arousal. Just as you feel the sharp edge of your orgasm approaching, he diverts his finger to tease at your entrance instead, moving away from the source of pleasure. 

“Sathanas, Papa,” you whine against his lips as his fingers continue to tease you. “Show me what you want. Teach me.” At your words, Papa growls, gripping you tightly with one arm and falling back onto the bench seat of the limousine. You straddle him easily, your chest pressed against his as he slides a finger inside of you, pumping and twisting with ease. He pulls your face down to his once more, kissing you greedily as his hips buck slightly against your legs. 

With a practiced motion, Papa taps the smooth spot inside of you at the same time that he bites your lip harshly and you keen against him, your hips moving unwillingly against his hand. You fuck yourself back onto his fingers as he holds you, mumbling praises against your lips as his thumb continues circling your clit. A shuddering moan drops from your lips as you tip over the edge of your climax, pussy squeezing his fingers and only ratcheting your arousal higher than before. It isn’t long before you come down, already wanting more. 

“Papa, let me…” You trail off, hands sliding down his chest to tug at the button on his suit pants. He moves his arm from around you and pulls his hand back slowly, giving you the room to sit up on his thighs. Slowly, you ease the zipper of his pants down and pull his cock out-- it’s already fully hard, flushed red and leaking. You give him a stroke, from base to tip, before running your thumb over the slit and bringing it to your mouth. Papa groans and bites his lower lip as he watches suck him off of your thumb, his hips moving upward slightly. 

“Touch me, Sister. You can grip it tight. It won’t bite, si?” He smiles up at you, bringing one of his arms to rest underneath his head in a cocksure motion. Rolling your eyes at him and huffing a laugh, you do as he says; you grip his cock tightly in your fist and drag it from base to tip, marveling at how his breath catches in his chest slightly. “Do a eh…” Papa motions with his own wrist. “Twist a little as you go up, Sister.” 

“Like this?” you ask, stroking his cock and turning your wrist just slightly as you do so. Almost instantly it’s obvious that this is what he likes-- his eyes practically roll back as his mouth drops open ever so slightly, small gasping pants falling from his lips as you speed up. Your own hips rock slightly against his thigh and you know that you’re leaving a trail of your slick on his suit pants, but you’re beyond caring. Watching him fall apart at your hand is enticing. 

“So good, Sister… you’re doing so good.” Papa’s eyes fly open as he watches you above him, his eyes flickering between your hand on his cock and the movements of your hips against his thigh. You tighten your hand on him slightly, moving faster as you do so. His hips jerk into your hand as he mutters in Italian to you, the hand behind his head gripping and tugging on his own hair as he practically bucks you off of him. 

“Is this what you want, Papa? Show me how you want it,” you say to him, your hips grinding down hard once. Papa catches you off guard by pushing himself up onto his hands quickly, gripping you around the waist as he twists to the side, sitting upright on the bench seat and pressing you against him. His cock is trapped between the two of you, and you roll your hips, savoring in the moan from him. Papa takes your lips in a heated kiss once more, growling against you as he pulls your hips into him in a grinding rhythm. 

“Papa… Papa, can you fuck me here? In the back of the limo? I don’t want to wait until we get back to the Abbey.” You pull back from him, noting that his pupils are blown as his breathing gets harder at your question. “Take me, Papa. Show me what you like, like you said.” A beat of silence passes before Papa finally speaks, in a gravelly tone that goes directly to your cunt.

“Turn around. Take your panties off and show me.” You take a second to collect yourself before swinging your leg over his lap, standing in front of him as best as you can and turning to face the front of the car. Sliding your thumbs into the waistline of your panties, you shimmy them down your legs, bending at the waist to afford him a view of your pussy as the cloth clings to your slickness before letting go. 

“You like this, Papa?” you ask, swinging your hips tauntingly for him as you do so. His only answer is in the form of a deep growl as his hand comes forward to grip your ass appreciatively. He grips your hips tightly and pulls you back, easing you down onto his lap. Feeling the head of his cock bump against your entrance gives you a thrill to your core, and a soft moan slips from you before you can catch it. 

“It’s good like this. Trust your Papa, si?” Papa moves your hair from your neck with his nose before biting the soft skin there at the same time that he pulls you onto his cock, seating himself inside of you with an easy glide. The stretch of him filling you manages to drag another moan from you as Papa huffs a slight laugh against your neck. “You like me inside of you, bella?” When you don’t answer him immediately, he thrusts upward sharply. “Answer Papa.”

“Sweet Unholy Lucifer yes, Papa. You feel so fucking good,” you whine, pitch climbing higher as Papa’s teeth latch firmly onto your pulse point. His hands, still on your hips, guide you in a rolling motion across his lap as he thrusts up into you. The pace is fast enough to give you pleasure, but slow enough to prolong your orgasm for longer than you’d like. When you whine in protest, Papa bites you sharply before pulling off. 

“You want more? Like a bitch in heat?” An uttered curse leaves you at Papa’s words and you nod frantically, wanting nothing more than to be utterly taken. “Alright then, we can do this.” Papa pushes you forward towards the floor of the limo and you catch yourself with your hands, holding yourself upright as his hands return to your hips. He grips you tightly, thrusting upward into you at a pace you didn’t think he rightly could. It’s all you can do to brace yourself against the floor as he takes you, the sound of his hips slamming into yours overpowering in the confined space. A brief reminder of the barrier between yourself and the driver flashes through your mind, and you’re grateful for the forethought-- the position that you’re in is compromising, to say the least. 

“Pa-pa!” you shout in a staccato rhythm to match his thrusts, your hair falling around your face in a thick veil. His hands dimple the flesh at your waist, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises come the morning. Something inside of you flares up at the thought that you’ll be thoroughly marked and claimed by him. 

“Yes, Sister. Shout my name as you cum for me. Bathe my cock in your climax… can you do that for Papa? I want to feel you cum around me… because of me.” It takes you a moment to register his words, and by the time you do you’re already cumming, his name on your lips. You can feel yourself squeezing around his cock as you cum, as well as the slickness spreading down your thighs. You’re vaguely aware of Papa chanting yesses as he approaches his own orgasm. 

With a few final thrusts, he slams himself into you to the hilt, moaning as his dick kicks and jerks inside of you. The feeling of Papa filling you with his cum manages to eke out another demi-orgasm from you, your thighs and arms shaking at the effort of holding yourself up. Finally he slides out of you and lets go of your waist, only for you to slide forward gracelessly and land in a heap on the padded floor of the limousine, breathing heavily. 

“So sorry, sorella. Let me help you--”

“No, no.” You wave off Papa’s attempt to help you up, laughing slightly. “Floor’s’nice for now. Comfortable.” He laughs with you, and you hear the distinct zip and jingle as he makes himself modest once more. You struggle up a moment later, replacing your panties with only minor difficulty and sitting down heavily on the seat beside Papa. 

“Is that everything you thought it would be, Sister?” Papa asks, not-so-modestly as he slings his arm around your shoulder once more, pressing a swift kiss to your forehead. 

“More, Papa. It was more than I ever expected from a simple dinner.” You feel no shame in admitting it, and decide to continue before your nerves catch back up with you. “I would love to do it again sometime, to be quite honest.” Papa chuckles slightly, giving you another squeeze just as the limousine rolls up and parks in front of the Abbey. 

“It shall, little one. Don’t worry about that.” Papa waits a moment for the driver to exit the limousine before opening the door himself, stepping out and giving you his hand once more. You turn quickly at a familiar voice, only to see Cardinal Copia approaching the two of you. 

“I’m never doing that again, Papa. I want my ‘around the block’ tip delivered by tomorrow.” Copia is wearing a dour expression as he turns and practically marches back into the Abbey, hands clenched into fists at his side and shoulders hunched. From afar, you can hear him mumbling, “‘Around the block’ my Catholic ass.”

“Papa!” you scold, scandalized. 

“He said he wanted to get out of the Abbey, I got him out.” Papa shrugs and you can’t help your laughter as he leads you back inside as well.


End file.
